Haruki Murakami - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

This is a short hundred and eighty page book, which has Murakami talk about his life, and the importance of running in it. It's a quick-paced interesting read for everyone - be it a marathon runner, or a marathon reader. You can call it an autobiography, a memoir, a travel journal, or a training diary - the book easily fits all of the above descriptions.  Murakami started running at the age of thirty-three, the age that Jesus Christ died. The age that Scott Fitzgerald started to go downhill. That age may be a kind of crossroads in life. And in his words, it was my belated, but real, starting point as a novelist. 

 What initially seemed like a way to stay in shape, while writing his novels, Murakami came to find a deeper spiritual bond with running, and throughout the book, he draws out the parallels between writing a novel and running. 

Fortunately, these two disciplines - focus and endurance - are different from talent, since they can be acquired and sharpened through training. You'll naturally learn both concentration and endurance when you sit down everyday at your desk and train yourself to focus on one point. This is a lot like the training of muscles I wrote of a moment ago. You have to continually transmit the object of your focus to your entire body, and make sure it thoroughly assimilates the information necessary for you to writ every single day and concentrate on the work at hand. And gradually you'll expand the limits of what you're able to do. Almost imperceptibly, you'll make the bar rise. This involves the same process as jogging every day to strengthen your muscles and develop a runner's physique. 

However, while this book talks of the importance of running in Murakami's life, it is, by no means, preachy. It doesn't insist that the reader start running. In fact, he openly says that long distance-running is not for everyone, and if this book convinces someone to run, well and good, but if someone doesn't enjoy running, they'll never be able to continue with it, patiently. 

As the book progresses, Murakami's focus shifts from marathons (including one that lasted over 60 miles!), to triathlons, and his thoughts during the event. It talks of his training, and the competition with himself to beat a certain time. It talks of the horrors of training for the cycling part of the triathlon and the challenges he's faced with the swimming. As someone who tries to run at least one marathon a year (and always complete it, running - not walking), and has rarely been sidetracked due to injury or illness, Murakami's book is a revelation of sorts. It mentions the typical marathon runner's dilemma : the toughest part of the marathon comes after twenty-two miles are done. It discusses the solitary nature of running, as well how this sometimes brings great pleasure: be it due to the beautiful girl whose name he has never known, or due to running with John Irving, or to simply enjoy the music. 

With the London Marathon being the hot topic on everyone's lips for the last couple of weeks, this book immediately made it to the bestsellers list at most bookstores. Ironically enough, Murakami never mentions running a London marathon, although he has talks of his experiences running the New York marathon multiple times, as well as the marathons at Greece, Honolulu, Boston and Japan. 

I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I picked up this book. I've read just the one book by Murakami (Norwegian Wood), and I am not a long distance runner. I do, however, enjoy swimming and its solitary nature, so yes - I can relate to a fair few emotions and philosophies the author discusses. But... I digress. I don't even know why I picked up this book. However, I did enjoy reading it, and while I don't have what it takes to be a long-distance runner, I honestly admire Murakami's commitment to the sport. 

Overall, I'd say a 6 on 10 - maybe if I'd read more of Murakami (I do have a couple of his books on my reading list), or if I was a long-distance runner, I'd have enjoyed it a lot more. If you're a bigger Murakami fan than I am, or if you have an interest in long-distance running, pick up this book... 

Patricia Duncker - Hallucinating Foucault

I ordered this book on Amazon, after seeing its name appear on the 1001 Books To Read Before You Die list. Initially, I thought the book was slow-paced, and the lead characters came across as fairly unattractive. There's the unnamed narrator, and The Germanist - a woman who the narrator is attracted to, and within the first couple of pages, she asks him out. Both of them are doing their research projects in Cambridge. While The Germanist is intense and passionate, the narrator comes across as a lot more relaxed and easy-going. He's desperate to please The Germanist, and the story actually begins when he commits to something only to please her.

His research subject is the brilliant albeit eccentric (read schizophrenic) writer, Paul Michel. However, his project focuses on the fiction of the writer, and not the controversial homosexual writer himself. Consequently, he's distant enough from the writer, to not know or care much about the writer and his personal life. The Germanist, on the other hand, is the other extreme. She also knows where Paul Michel has been for the last decade or so - a psychiatric hospital in Paris - and she expects the narrator to go there, and save Michel.

Up to this point, I really didn't enjoy the book. The narrator lacked backbone. On the other hand,  The Germanist was incessantly perceptive, passionate and intense. As the narrator's flatmate said:

You can't like women like that. Liking is too negligible an emotion. Anyway, she she scares me shitless.

However, when the narrator reaches Paris, and hits the library, the story picks up pace, and transforms into a page-turner of sorts. He stumbles on some letters written by Michel to Foucault, and familiarizes himself with the author whose works he had gotten to know so intimately. At this point, the central theme of the book unfolds: exploring the mutual love shared between reader and writer, that is never explicitly mentioned to each other.

The final letter that the narrator reads speaks to him, as he realizes that these letters have never been posted, nor read, by the intended recipient, Michel Foucault:

Sex is a brief gesture, I fling away my body with my money and fear. It is the sharp sensation which fills the empty space before I can go in search of you again. I repent nothing but the frustration of being unable to reach you. You are the glove that I find on the floor, the daily challenge that I take up. You are the reader for whom I write. You have never asked me who I have loved the most. You know already and that is why you never asked. I have always loved you.

Foucault seems to be Michel's muse. Their writings explore similar themes and opinions, both reflecting the other's deeply. Neither of them interacted with each other, but they communicated via their published works. Foucault's death in 1984 probably pushed Michel over the edge, and resulted in his admission to a facility in Paris.

Once the narrator discovers that Paul Michel had left the institution in Paris, and is now in one in Clermont-Ferrand, he heads there to find the author, for reasons he did not understand. The initial meeting between the narrator and Michel ends abruptly, but the subsequent meetings (initiated by Paul Michel) leads to a warm friendship and love. The narrator is fascinated and endeared to the wild boy of his generation, and Michel, in turn, grows quite fond of the naive twenty-two year old, referring to him as 'petit', for most of the time they spend together.

As the book progresses, there are some moments that are funny, some that are sad, and some that will stay in your mind forever, just as they did in the narrator's. As a young child once told Paul Michel:

If you love someone, you know where they are and what has happened to them. And you put yourself at risk to save them if you can.

And that's exactly what the narrator set out to do, on being convinced by the formidable Germanist.

This is not an academic book. It's not a book on the life and times of Paul Michel. It's a book about a fascinating character, who's funny, quick-witted spontaneous and humorous. Someone capable of great love, great sentimentality and great generosity. Someone whose world revolves around one person - a reader of his work - and someone who dedicates his life to making his reader proud. The character of Paul Michel is so colorful, that, for what it's worth, he could as easily be a fictional character.

All in all, I'd say this was a 6.5 on 10, most of the points being docked for the first part of the book making me want to put it down, and never ever pick it up again. On the other hand, I'm glad I finished the book, and now, I'm tempted to find some of the works by Paul Michel and Michel Foucault - the two lovers, who never explicitly expressed their love for each other, but still held on to a love that could not be tarnished. Not even with time. 

Jay Asher - 13 Reasons Why

We've all faced the wrath of high school. Either we were too fat, or too thin. Either people expected too much of us, or nothing at all. Either we were 'cool', or we were 'geeks'. Some of us made our peace with it, while some of us still hate that part of our past. Children can be cruel. Adolescents more so. And this book draws on that very attribute of teenagers, to show how harmless 'fun' resulted in a young attractive girl deciding that suicide is her only escape. Thirteen reasons. Thirteen. The Baker's Dozen. And the protagonist is called Hannah Baker.

Imagine this. You wake up one morning, and see a parcel on your front door. I don't know about you, but I love parcels, specially unexpected ones (i.e. not Amazon parcels!). You open them eagerly, to find a bunch of tapes. Tapes in the twenty-first century? Yes. Exactly. It's unheard of. But, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you remember the stereo in the garage. You pop in the first tape, and you hear the voice of a girl you used to know, a girl you liked a lot, a girl who chose to kill herself. And you start...

Or well, Clay Jensen did. At the very outset, the message the tapes carried were clear: if someone was listening to the tapes, it meant they were one of the reasons why Hannah Baker decided to end her life. She refused to inform the listener which tape was theirs, but just made the one promise: But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up.

The story follows Clay around the city at night, as he listens to Hannah's story, and traces her steps in sync with her narration, that spreads seven tapes/thirteen sides. Be it a cafe, an ice cream parlor, or her old house. Even to the house where they once made out... and as the thirteen reasons unfold, one thing is clear: Clay's life will never be the same again. Getting a message from the beyond can shock you to bits, but being told that you're one of the reasons why a girl committed suicide - that's much worse.

The reader can almost sense the emotions and pain that Clay is experiencing, as he listens to these stories, as he reconstructs some of the events, and as he finds himself sickened by some of the acts of gross misconduct his classmates are capable of. From the 'nicest' girl in school using Hannah, to the biggest jerks objectifying her. From her first boyfriend spreading rumors about their relationship, to a casual date with a 'goofy' guy resulting in him trying to finger her. She seeks help, in her own way, but doesn't get it.... and Clay constantly reminds us that he would've been there for her, but she didn't reach out to him. And he recalls his memories with her... be it at work, at school, or at that 'party'. Even more so, he doesn't quite fathom what he's doing on these tapes....

It's a sad story, albeit beautifully written. It doesn't focus on depression. Instead, it's a page-turner, keeping the reader in suspense; the perverse part of us wanting to know more about why someone's decided to take this humungous step... about what finally pushed them over the edge. It reminds us again (not that we need reminding) about the futility of bullying, and how we should notice people's silent pleas for help. Never know, when people are looking for one reason to cling on to life, every little helps. And how, sometimes, someone, makes up their mind to do something, and are completely calm, composed and at peace with it. And nope - it's not always a cry for attention.

Lastly, I do want to highlight that this is a work of fiction. In fact, it's Asher's debut novel, and he claims he got the idea from the audio guides used by museums. While this isn't available in most UK high street stores, if you do stumble upon it, give it a read. It'll make you smile wanly at moments, and it will bring a tear to your eye.

Overall rating: 7.5/10

Carlos Ruiz Zafón - The Shadow of the Wind

This is a well-written page turner, with all the elements of a good story: romance, history, friendship, murder, revenge, redemption, bad cop, good beggar, a young impressionable protagonist, and a history that seems to be re-living itself, with different actors... 

Set in a desolate Barcelona in 1945, around the time of the Spanish Civil War, this book centers around Daniel, who is all of ten years, when the book starts. The opening scene is enchanting, and draws the reader immediately into the convoluted story, encouraging them to turn the page and discover the significance of a decision made by a child in a few minutes - a decision that defines his childhood, and adolescence. 

When David wakes up one morning, realizing he cannot recall his dead mother's face, his father (a bookseller), after comforting him, takes him to the 'Cemetery of Forgotten Books', a labyrinth of books that don't have owners, books that are forgotten in the depths of time, and just sit there, waiting to be picked up by someone like Daniel, i.e. someone who is given permission to take one book from there, conditional on the person promising to adopt the book, and not allow it to disappear as so many other books have. It's the beauty of this opening chapter that enthralls me. Any book lover would give anything to visit such a place. Does such a place even exist? Sorry to digress, but I can almost imagine this beautiful santuary of sorts, and losing myself within. 

Anyway, Daniel chooses a book called 'The Shadow of the Wind', by an obscure author, Julian Carax, because, in his words, the book had been waiting for him. David reads the book that very night, and is completely captivated by the story, so much so that he's keen to find out more about Carax, and read more of his works. On his father's advice, Daniel speaks to Barcelo, a book-trader, to find out more about Carax. Initially Barcelo attempts to purchase the book from him for a hefty price, for it's a rare piece. However, Daniel flat out refuses, and continues his quest to find either more books by this author, or more about the author himself. What he doesn't know at the time is, there is someone out there, looking for the same books. Not to read them, not to sell them, but to burn them. 

As the book progresses, Daniel follows many leads, speaks to many people, and tries to piece together the full story of Carax's enigmatic life. He doesn't realize the gravity of his search, until someone who seems closely involved is murdered. The suspect: his best friend, a beggar, Fermin. Of course, if there's a good tramp, there's bound to be a bad cop, and this is where Fumero comes in - someone whose ruthless reputation precedes him. If he's out to get you, he will get you - that's the word. And he seems to passionately hate Carax - Why? 

The story has plenty of twists and turns. It's not straightforward, but it's gripping. You want to know what happened next. You want to know why someone wants to burn Carax's books. You want to know more about Fumero and Fermin. You want to know about how the random people that keep cropping up fit together, in the grand scheme of things. And the answers you end up getting are more and more surprising.

And while you're getting more and more engrossed in the mystery, you see Daniel growing up - from being a stubborn defiant child, smitten by the blind niece of Barcelo, to a young man who follows what he believes he has to, and ends up falling in love with his best friend's sister (from school). While there are times you think he's a coward, there are other times you have to admire him, for all he's trying to do. And then there are moments when you just have to smile at the conversations between Fermin and Daniel. The one that sticks to mind is, Daniel feels guilty about lying to his father while he follows the Carax mystery. To which Fermin replies, along the lines, the relationship between father and son is based on lies: tooth fairies, Santa Claus etc.

In fact, Fermin is that character that really stands out, for me. A man who seems politically incorrect at many a level, a devoted friend, and someone who can be sensitive and gentle when the need arises. Oh, and he's a man who always sticks by his promises - even if it means getting an old man a hooker! Fermin takes on the role of a friend and guardian to Daniel, while simultaneously helping out at the bookshop, and being a godsend for the protagonist and his father. While there are scars from his past, which he occasionally succumbs to; all in all, he seems to be someone who wants to enjoy life while doing the right thing - and not in a preachy goody-two-shoes way! Fermin's witty, quick and the dialog between him and some of the other characters make the book a considerably lighter and a tad more humorous read.

It's a relatively 'chunky' book, at about 510 pages, paperback. But give it a go - I don't think you'll be disappointed.

George Orwell - Animal Farm

An anthropomorphic anti-Soviet social satire, this book stirred up a fair bit of controversy, and initially, a multitude of publishers refused to print it, fearing the repercussions of the act. The book focuses on the animals of Manor Farm, and how they go the full circle, from being owned by men and working for them, to being an animal democracy, and then the balance of power shifting again, to one of the species...

In the opening chapter, the Old Baron summons all the animals of Manor Farm one evening, after the farmer - Mr. Jones - has retired for the night. He then tells the animals of a dream where the animals are independent, and working for themselves, and not man. He then encourages them to plan a revolution to overthrow man, and take their fate in their own hands.

And that is exactly what these animals do, by running Mr. Jones out of the farm, and creating a democracy, with seven commandments:

1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy
2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend
3. No animal shall ever wear clothes
4. No animal shall ever sleep in a bed
5. No animal shall ever drink alcohol
6. No animal shall kill any other animal
7. All animals are equal

This is the new improved farm - the Animal Farm - where the animals join forces and work for themselves. Pigs, deemed the most intellectual of all animals, are mutually considered to be the species who would educate the others, as well as plan out the best course of action for the farm. All in all, the animals were ecstatic that they had achieved this utopian dream, and news of their success spread far and wide.

However, soon enough, the pigs became the 'rulers' of this utopia, and started setting down the rules, often overriding the commandments, or adding an exception clause, without informing the other citizens. Napoleon, the elite ruler (who was meant to represent Stalin), with the help of Squealer (supposedly Molotov) started slowly brainwashing the other animals, and confusing them greatly; so much so, that, eventually a totalitarian regime emerged, but the animals didn't even realize what was happening. The final commandment was altered by the pigs to

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

No animal was informed of this change, and none of them realized what was actually going on - be it because of their inherently trusting nature, or because of the pack of lies they were fed by the pigs-in-charge. I don't want to give away the ending of the book, but suffice it to say that the last line pretty much sums up the book in a nutshell.

This book explores the failure of communism, and how, while in theory it's utopian; in practice, it just ends up being a totalitarian dystopia (in the context of the Stalin rule, at least). It shows naivety of people, and how easy it is to muddle their thoughts by stretching the truth, or talking so confidently that they start doubting their own memories. For example, when the pigs moved into the Jones' house, and started sleeping on the beds, one of the animals was sure that there was a commandment that denounced this. When he went to the 'wall' where all the commandments were details, what he read was

No animal shall ever sleep in a bed with sheets.

Of course, the pigs denied using sheets.

What is really scary, though, is that the book is so convincing; that the animals are so quick to believe everything. Even when their food rations are decreased, their working hours increased, and the pigs are getting all the apples, they do not revolt against the pigs, for, they believe that it's better than working for the Jones'. Of course, no one quite recalls what that was like, and whether that was a better life, or worse.

While this book sounds political, it's not, really. As in, one can easily read it as a piece of fiction (a fairy tale, as one of its alternate titles suggest), and contemplate on some of the many points raised without matching up the main characters with their corresponding historical figures. Of course, the matching makes the book more interesting, but... I only ended up looking into who each character was after I finished it; more out of interest in the history of the Soviet Union, as opposed to because the book demanded it.

This book is a classic, and I think a definite must-read. It's practically been on every 'list' of must-reads and best books, and there's a reason why.

An 8 on 10, with my only complaints being that the book is overtly simplistic, and, not the reader is not completely clear as to who each character of the book is. Of course, if it was abundantly clear, the reader would complain that little is left to the imagination....  Also, I can't help but wonder how would things have materialized if the pigs were capitalists, not communists... any ideas?

Anthony Burgess - A Clockwork Orange

O my brothers, this book is real horrorshow. You must have slooshied about it, and in my opinion, it's a must read. Apologies for the nadsat, i.e. teenage Russian slang, but I think this is partly responsible for making this book just as good as it is (and I really can't rate it high enough). Initially, the book is challenging to read. The language is full of slang, that takes some time to get accustomed to. I was confused and felt that I really needed a dictionary (or, the book needed a glossary) to make some sense out of this book. However, within a couple of chapters, the slang started to make sense, and I just couldn't stop reading it, to see how it ends.

The book revolves around Alex, who is fifteen when the book starts. The opening scene seems innocent enough - Alex and his three droogs are hanging out in a milkbar (where the drinks are laced with drugs), one evening. Once they leave the milkbar though, we get introduced to the violent streak in these four teenagers. They decide to beat up a man leaving a library, just for the sake of it; get into a bloody fight with a rival gang; steal a car; enter some random home of a couple - beat the husband up, and gang rape the wife. And if that's not bad enough, they then tolchock the car into the river below. Real nasty stuff, and that point, you can't help but feeling that the four teenagers are despicable and deserve severe punishment.

Later on that evening, we get a glimpse of another side of Alex, the gang privodevat, as he goes home, and in total darkness listens to some classical music. That's when we discover his unequivocal love for Beethoven, and some other classical geniuses. Who knew their crime-minded malchicks appreciate music as much as they do violence?

When the gang decides to overthrow Alex as their leader, and get George, one of the droogs to replace him, Alex challenges George to a fight, which he wins, thereby retaining his title. That night, they decide to get up to some serious mischief, and rob a rich woman. However, things don't quite go according to plan, and Alex's violence costs the woman her life. The three droogs abandon Alex there, letting him take the fall for it while they run away... and Alex is charged with murder.

Good riddance, you say? A boy like that deserves no better? Well, read on...

Alex spends two years in jail, where he shares a small cell with some other inmates. When a new inmate is brought to their cell, and starts throwing his weight around, Alex, with the help of the other inmates, end up killing him (accidentally). As things normally pan out, the other prisoners deny responsibility, and Alex takes the fall. He volunteers for the Ludovico Technique, a procedure that is supposed to change the criminal mind, to that of a peace-loving citizen, in just two weeks. Sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?

This technique is essentially conditional programming/aversion therapy. Alex is forced to watch videos of gruesome violence, and is injected with some nauseating medicine simultaneously. The idea is, every time the subject (in this case, Alex) thinks of violence, he ends up feeling nauseous. However, Alex is never told what the treatment actually entails, and he assumes it's something nice and easy, that gets him out of prison in two weeks - the only reason why he volunteers.

When Alex goes back to life outside prison, he is not prepared for what greets him, and you can't help but feel sorry for the boy, as he tries to figure things out. Stripped off everything, even his greatest love, we see a struggle, and we're forced to ask some serious ethical questions: Are treatments like the Ludovico Technique justified? If someone shows a violent streak, is the government entitled to brainwash them? And what if the primary reason to get people undergo this treatment is that the prisons just don't have enough space to hold all the convicts? Do two wrongs make a right? Does the end justify means? Do the means justify the end?

This dystopian novel is incredibly well-written. I don't think the reader is supposed to relate to Alex. While Alex's description of Beethoven's music might just be one of the most beautiful things I've read in literature, his violent streak and some of the criminal acts he's conducted might be the most horrific. As I flipped the last page of the book, I couldn't help but admire Alex just a tad, and I also regretted that the book was over. Definitely one of the most thought-provoking books I've read in recent times.

Dare I say, a 10 on 10?

Mohsin Hamid - Moth Smoke

This is The Great Gatsby set in the 21st century, in Pakistan. The similarities between the two books are striking, and the endings are almost identical. In fact, I'll go out on a limb and say that this book was inspired by Fitzgerald's classic.

An insight into the life of the rich social circle in Pakistan, this book explores some of the typical subjects one would expect by a sub-continent writer.

To be honest, this is probably the second or third book I've read by a Pakistani author (the only others I've read are The Reluctant Fundamentalist by the same author, and The Islamist - can't remember who wrote that!), and as this was the first one that explores the society in the country, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I was slightly taken aback - by the abundance of alcohol, drugs, parties and opulence that the book displayed (primary reason behind the Great Gatsby comparison).

It's the story of Daru, a middle-class man working in a bank, who sees his life fall apart as he is fired from his job, falls in love with his best friend's wife, starts mixing hash and heroin, and decides to join forces with a corrupt rickshaw driver.

It's a story about friendship and betrayal, about hypocrisy and violence, about crime and punishment, about corruption and nepotism. While I personally did not sympathize much with Daru, I ended up finding his best friend fairly despicable.

What makes this book different, and an interesting read is how the author brings forth every character's point of view, by dividing the book into many chapters. Each chapter is narrated by one of the characters of the book, thereby giving us insight into them, their actions, and what motivates them to do some of the things they do.

While the book has an unfair ending, one can't help but wonder whether Daru deserved better or not.

Overall a 6 on 10, and a good book to read on tube.

F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby

Glitz. Glamour. A love that has survived the War. Extra-marital affairs. Grand parties. Opulence. Alcohol. A yellow Rolls Royce. Chauffeurs. Friendship... and New York in the 1920s (the 'Jazz' age). This pretty much sums up 'The Great Gatsby' - a classic piece of literature from the 20th century.

The story revolves around the rich and glamorous party-goers in New York in the 20th century - in a time when alcohol has been prohibited, when the economy is buzzing (post World War I), and when people are enjoying life to the fullest

The book starts off on a note that grabs the reader's attention, and instinctively makes them want to flip over the page, to figure out what the narrator is 'reserving judgment on':

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in the world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'

And then the story kicks off, with the introduction to Jay Gatsby - the narrator's (a 22 year old Nick Carraway) wealthy neighbor. Gatsby is an important part of the circle of the rich and famous socialites in New York. Holding alcohol-heavy parties regularly, which carry on 'til the wee hours of the morning, where people turn up, invited or otherwise, Gatsby seems to be at the heart of the socializing. However, ironically enough, he never seems to be drunk or an active part of these parties - instead, he seems to be a mere spectator. No one seems to know who he is, and when Nick asks, people look at him puzzled.

However, there are rumors about Gatsby - his lineage, where he comes from, and where he has earned his money. People indulge in hyperbolic assumptions and wonderings, which Nick himself is fascinated by. However, as the story progresses, Gatsby tells our narrator about why he purchased his place - it's bang opposite Daisy's house across the river. Daisy, Nick's cousin, used to be Gatsby's lover prior to the war, but when Gatsby left for the War, she married Tom. Tom, also opulent, comes across as obnoxious and arrogant; much unlike Gatsby. He boasts of his mistress, and in fact, insists that Nick meet her.

Gatsby clearly has just one mission: to sweep Daisy off her feet, and make her leave Tom. Tom, in all his arrogance, cannot deal with this, and the book ends tragically, where we come to see that all the wealth in the world doesn't buy friends, and people are quick to judge based on nothing; where people act without thinking of the consequences, and how jealousy and anger combined result in an act of ultimate unfairness. It's this ending that makes the book as heart-achingly sad and depressing.

This beautifully written book vividly brings to life the society of New York in the 1920s. From the fact that women are meant to be beautiful and not much else (I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool. -  Daisy on her daughter) to, people indulging in idle gossip about their host. It highlights the jealousy of a jilted lover, and the passion of an old one. It stresses on pride and money, of opulence and fair-weather friends.

The prose itself is almost like poetry, with some philosophical meanderings, and thought-provoking quotes. A powerful book, this book has made an impression me, like very few other books have.

Overall, an 8 on 10, and a must-read. I'm off to find another book by Fitzgerald now, and it's much to my dismay that due to his death at a relatively early age, there aren't that many.

Gyorgy Dragoman - The White King

Dragoman's The White King is a coming-of-age tale, based in a communist Romania, under the Ceausescu rule. 

11 year old Djata, the book's protagonist, lives alone with his mother, after his father has gone away on 'business'. While his father had told him that he will be back within a couple of weeks, months have passed with no word. 

However, as the book goes on, we learn that his father has not actually gone away on 'business', but he's a prisoner, and is forced to do manual work on the Danube. However, Djata still clings to hope, that his father will be back soon, and they can continue making plans together. 

While this is the main theme of the book, interwoven are many chapters and episodes, about the boy's life, growing up in a communist state. Occasionally reminding the reader of Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn, the truants and events described in this book range for terrifying to humorous. Each of the eighteen chapters holds as a short-story of its own, linking to the main story in bits and bobs. It tells of the sadistic football coach, contractors forcing schoolboys to carry out their task, child-gang 'wars' and bullying. It illustrates the child-like innocence of Djata as he plucks a bunch of tulips for his mother, the brattishness as he steals the white king, in a game of chess against a robot, to ensure he doesn't lose; the gang war that takes place, for the sake of a ball, and the risks the boys take, to ensure they don't get into trouble in school as a consequence of their own mischief. Of course, in the midst of all this is Djata's complex relationship with his family - his grandfather who once had a political career, but has now fallen from grace due to his son's capture; his mother who pines for his father and wishes for him to come home; and the strained relationship between the only two adults in his life. 

This is an insight into childhood in Romania in the 1980s, and how violence breeds violence. It makes the reader wonder whether childhood in that time and age can actually be called that? And, it brings a smile, as it reminds us that no matter what, children will always be children. 

7/10 for me.

Michael Morpurgo - Waiting For Anya

Twelve year old Jo, a shepherd boy, lives in a small French mountain village, during the late 1930s-early 1940s. World War II's broken out, and Jo's father is away in action, while Jo is assuming some of his father's responsibilities, and simultaneously attending school. The War is far away from this village, and to Jo it almost seems quite unreal, and he's unsure of his opinion about it. What Jo thought about the war and about the occupation seemed to depend on whether he had just talked to Maman or to Grandpere: he could never make up his mind.

His mother just wanted the War to end, and his father to come home, whereas his grandfather was eyeing victory.

However, things change drastically for Jo, when he discovers that Widow Horcada and her son in law are smuggling young Jewish children into Spain, in order to help  them escape a worse fate at the hands of the Germans. The Widow is supposed to be an unpopular woman in the village, due to her sharp tongue and dislike for children - The children in the village called her 'The Black Widow', and not just on account of the long black shawl she always wore over her head.

Bernard, the son in law, and the Widow insist that Jo keeps a secret, and Jo, albeit unhappy about lying to his mother and grandfather, agrees to do so. He even takes on the responsibility of helping the Widow with her food-shopping, as more and more children find shelter in her barn. However, when the Germans start patrolling the Spanish border, danger for the children and the adult pair seems imminent. Jo continues to stick to his convictions to help them, at all costs, and earns the trust and respect of the Widow as well, over time.

This is an adventure story, a story about the Holocaust, and World War II. More importantly, it's a story about unity, human nature, bravery, friendship and a child's innocence. It talks about the pointlessness of War, and how both parties stand to lose. It touches upon how some Germans don't understand what they're fighting for, and how they are losing their families and loved ones as well. It poignantly shows the difficulties a soldier faces on coming back home, after four years, when life has moved on for this family, despite his absence. And it is essentially a story about a few people who are ready to sacrifice everything to do the right thing.

A descriptive, eloquently written text, Waiting For Anya is one of those books that is bound to bring a tear to the eye, specially right at the end, when Jo is introduced to Anya, Bernard's daughter. Anya and Bernard left Paris together, but got separated en route to the Widow's place. They had a promise that they'd wait for each other there, and Bernard had full faith that his daughter would be back one day: Two years, ten years, however long it takes. She'll come. And when she does, we'll be waiting for her just like I promised her.

Overall, a 7 on 10 - probably a notch below the likes of The Book Thief and The Boy In The Striped Pajamas, when it comes to children's books based during the World War II era, but, a must-read anyway.

Milan Kundera - The Book of Laughter and Forgetting

This book is a novel in the form of variations. The various parts follow each other like the various stages of a voyage leading into the interior of a theme, the interior of thought, the interior of a single, unique situation, the understanding of which recedes from my sight into the distance. It is a book about laughter and about forgetting, about forgetting and about Prague, about Prague and about angels. That's how Kundera sums up his book, within the text, as he reflects on life, the characters he's created, and how we're all bound by just one thing: the past; which is why, the children are our future. "Children have no past, and that is the whole secret of the magical innocence of their smiles".

The book is divided into seven stories, each independent of one another, but for the fact that the stories are based in and around the same time and place: a Czech Communist state in the 1970s. It's a book about love, about losing, about moving on, about laughing, about philosophy.

I don't know what inspired this book, but it's beautifully written, and I challenge anyone to open a page and not find some quote, reflection or dialogue that completely blows your mind away. The stories are interesting, be it about Tamina, the young widower  who tries to recollect each and every memory of the 'happy' life she shared with her husband, or about litost (a state of torment created by the sudden sight of one's own misery); be it filial love and devotion, or about going to see an old loved one - who the protagonist has truly loved, but never admitted - for his lover's ugly; or, be it about poets getting drunk and talking through the night about nothing at all, but at the same time, talking about everything.

A poet's pride is not ordinary pride. Only the poet himself can know the value of what he writes. Others don't understand it until much later, or they may never understand it. So, it's the poet's duty to be proud. If he weren't, he would betray his own work.

Kundera's observations, as he creates his characters, and gives them life, adds to the charm, specially when he talks about Tamina - and literally dedicates this book to her (in the text itself), while she seems to be a fictional character, consumed by pain and a dire need to forget, and get away. Move on, if you like.

And then there's the misogyny. From the opening chapter, where Mirek is ashamed of his passionate love of Zdena, a woman few years his senior, only because Zdena was guilty of something differently serious. She was ugly, to later on, where a character defends rape, and almost discusses how beautiful it is - because, women are prone to saying 'no', by default, even if they mean yes. Yes, that made me wince.

It's also a book about sex, and seduction. Sometimes, the attempted seduction results in litost, and sometimes, it results in the girl going to the bathroom and throwing up.

Ironically enough, it's a sad, despondent book; beautifully written. It invokes pangs of sadness, moments of reflection, and it does beg the question: what will the future bring, and like children, will I be able to laugh and forget, instead of being weighed down by the past, and subsequently, forgetting to look to the future.

So far, it's the best book I've read this year.

Michael Morpurgo - WarHorse

I don’t know why I picked up this book. It might have been because I’ve got The Butterfly Lion and Private Peaceful on my reading list. It might be because it was the only book that looked tempting at Waterstones the other day (and I couldn’t find a copy of The Great Gatsby - the book I actually wanted to purchase). I don’t know - but, I picked it up, and silently cursed myself, for... the last couple of times I’ve picked up a book without reading any reviews, I’ve regretted it (Suspicions of Mr. Whicher being a prime example). But, this book ended up restoring my faith in impulsive book buying.

The gist at the back of the book only lets you know that it’s a story of “truest of friendships in the worst of wars”. What it doesn’t tell you is, the book is written in first person, and the protagonist is a horse. Does the title of the book give it away? Maybe so - but, frankly speaking, it wasn’t what I expected when I started reading the book, and for a moment I despaired - I mean, not every author is like Sewell, who succeeded in making the story of Black Beauty one of the most loved horse-stories ever. I was prepared for a painstakingly unimaginative pathetic fallacy, where the story has been done in a gazillion other equine-books. But... like I’ve already indicated: the book was a pleasant surprise.

The book follows the story of Joey, a half-thoroughbred, who was bought by a drunk farmer during an auction, only to outsmart one of his rivals. However, the farmer’s son seems to be the diametric opposite, and trains the horse with love and care, and surely enough, the horse reciprocate the feelings:

They (father and son) stood together at the stable door. I noticed with infinite pride and pleasure that my Albert was already taller than his father, whose face was drawn and lined with pain.

One does wonder why on earth they’re training a half-thoroughbred to be a plough-horse, but there you have it.

War (World War I) is on the verge of breaking out, and when it finally does, the farmer sells Joey to the Cavalry, without letting Albert know. This is probably the only time in the book where we see the softer, more remorseful side of the farmer, as he apologizes to Joey, saying he is desperately in need for the money. And so it is - Joey becomes part of the Cavalry, and instantly befriends Topthorn (another Cavalry horse).

The horse, with a penchant for poetic language, describes the horrors and destruction that War brings in its wake, focusing on the emotions, the hardships, the frustrations and the futility of it all, as he sees horses and people dying, guns being fired endlessly, and people (and horses) struggling to find food or warmth in the bitter winter.

Still the guns bellowed out their fury and the ground shook beneath us. We passed the field hospitals and the light guns before trotting over the support trenches to catch our first sight of the battlefield. Desolation and destruction were everywhere. Not a building was left intact. Not a blade of grass grew in the torn and ravaged soil.

As the war progressed,horses were used for transport, as opposed to for charges. When Joey and Topthorn (and their respective riders) are taken as German prisoners of war, the two fine horses end up pulling German ambulances. At that time, they’re kept in stables, for the first time since the war began, and their care-taker is a young girl, who pours affection on them, and always wants the best for them. Again Joey describes why horses like children, their softness and gentleness unparalleled, and allows the reader another glimpse into the psyche of the horse.

The book is heartwarming, and sad, as people die, horses die, and there seems to be a remarkable injustice. But, to be fair, that just about sums up war: where people sometimes lose track of the reasons they’re killing others, and kill only because the other man wears a different color uniform, and speaks a different language. As tragedy strikes, as Joey loses multiple owners, as he’s starved and freezing in the winters, and as he sees his friends losing the will (and strength) to go on, he ends up pushing himself and the reader cannot help but admire the horse: the loyalty, the sense of friendship, and the determination.

This is a story of a horse (surprise!), but more than that, it’s a story of affection, trust, and love - between master and horse, between horses, and between people. The ending stands testimony to that, and somehow, it ends up being a feel-good book, despite the horrors and atrocities detailed and described by the war horse, and war veteran?

Overall, five stars! And yes, I’ll definitely be reading more by Morpurgo.